The gloomy weather outside, combined with the strangely oppressive atmosphere, left Marionne feeling strangely down.
For the past several days, strange things seemed to be happening, but no one could say exactly what was off.
When she turned away from the large window and looked back at the living area in the eight-story building many people called the "Temporary Shelter," she saw a group of dozens of able-bodied men arguing intensely, their faces dark with stress, as if something major was about to happen any moment now.
No one in that group paid her any attention.
Marionne left them to their arguing and walked past many other people who didn't know each other. Each person had escaped here from elsewhere, fleeing from something, but there was one person she felt more familiar with than anyone else.
That boy was around seven or eight years old. He was sitting at one of the dining tables in the cafeteria where many people sitting around with nothing to do. She didn't know whose child he was. His face felt deeply familiar, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't place it.
Just as Marionne was about to take the boy's hand to walk with him, a thunderous blast shook the air, followed by the sound of multiple windows shattering at once.
Her survival instinct kicked in, making her immediately drop the child's hand and automatically run up to the second floor. Sounds of combat and fighting followed behind her, growing closer and closer, but Marionne didn't think to look back—she knew that if she slowed down even for a second, it could mean the end of her life.
Marionne ran as fast as she could, leaving behind everyone she saw and passed along the way. At a time like this, if she didn't save herself, no one else might survive either.
When she reached the second floor, she found fighting already breaking out in several spots. The invaders were charging in to attack and slaughter everyone sheltering here without reason.
Marionne took advantage of gaps in the chaos— ducking and crawling to escape, hiding and flattening herself against pillars, squeezing into the crevices between cabinets and tables as best she could—to head straight for a certain "special room."
Fortunately, the area in front of that room was clear of people, so she quickly rushed to open the door and close it, sliding the bolt shut immediately.
Unfortunately, the upper part of the door was glass, allowing anyone outside to see clearly who was inside. She quickly flipped off every light switch, but three small lights remained—both orange and blue—and no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't find their switches.
All Marionne could do now was hide behind the cardboard boxes piled haphazardly throughout the room and pray that no one would bother looking into this room.
But her prayers went unanswered. Just a few seconds later, a burly man—whom she immediately recognized as one of the invaders—appeared and slapped the glass panel of the door, then pressed his face and eyes against the clear glass to look for any survivors in the room.
The doorknob rattled violently as the person outside tried to twist and shake it open. Marionne knew that before long, the invader would surely find a way to break down the door. So she decided to push aside the cluttered cardboard boxes, revealing a large circular door resembling an airtight hatch that opened by twisting and turning. It was a door set into the floor, like a manhole cover on a sidewalk.
Marionne used all her strength to twist the door open. The moment she saw the opening in the floor beneath the door, she jumped in immediately.
The opening was a tube resembling a water-park slide. It carried her straight down to the destination—the basement level of that building. When she reached the end, her body landed on the seat of an electric golf cart waiting there. As soon as she sat in the last seat, the cart began to move.
Before long it stopped, parking behind several other carts lined up in rows. Hers was in the second row, third cart.
Only now did Marionne have the clarity to look around. She found that dozens of people had managed to escape through the passage called the "VIP door"—which was the very slide tunnel she'd escaped through.
Looking at the cart parked ahead, she saw her father sitting with three other passengers. And the person sitting to her right was her mother.
Marionne felt relieved and glad. At least during this crisis, she knew both her parents were safe, and they were all about to be taken to temporary safe shelter. She held her mother's hand while listening to the conversations of others who had escaped.
"They came like an army. My grandson was killed by them."
"The fifth floor that was seized is a lab. I heard they take people there to experiment on them."
"Some people who didn't escape in time weren't killed, apparently. They seemed to be kept to be used for something. But the ending definitely won't be pretty."
"Why are they doing this?"
"In wartime like this, who knows why they're doing anything?"
And many other conversations. From this, Marionne learned that everyone here was considered a temporary refugee. But before this, they had been ordinary citizens who were attacked by invaders and forced to keep fleeing until they reached this shelter.
While she was turned to the side listening and gathering information, she heard some commotion up ahead, so she turned back to look. Her row had been moved up to the very front. The cart her father was sitting in had disappeared—she guessed it must have already driven off to the temporary shelter.
A large group of people walked into the open area ahead. They were both men and women. One of them was a famous celebrity whose face she'd seen all over the media. They seemed to be walking in looking for someone. Some of them had weapons in their hands.
Out of fear, she bowed her head to hide so they wouldn't see her, just as her cart drove away from the temporary parking area. That made her breathe out in relief.
But the cart had barely driven for two minutes before it stopped in front of a building with many doors resembling elevator doors. It was a building entrance with multiple channels. Everyone was herded off the carts.
Marionne turned around to take her mother's hand so they could walk in together, but she couldn't see her mother anymore. She didn't know which door she'd been herded through. As for herself, she was herded toward the first door.
The moment she walked into the building, she saw dozens of metal doors lined up in rows. Some doors stood open, revealing narrow, cramped rooms inside that could only fit people walking in single file. Both sides of the rooms had shelf-like drawers made of rusty iron. They looked like food freezers, but the shelves were stacked densely close together—dozens of shelves on one side. She saw that many shelves had packaged food and drinks prepared on them, but they were in a condition that made her think they should be expired food rather than anything edible.
Finally, she was herded to the front of one room. A man who'd been walking ahead of her was herded to the next room. She and he looked at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say, and then both she and he were pushed from behind into their respective rooms.
Marionne had no choice but to walk in without being able to resist. The moment she entered, the door behind her closed, and she heard the sound of a lock clicking from outside.
When she turned to look inside the room, it was just a narrow, dimly lit, filthy room. When she looked closely at the food storage drawers on both sides, she saw only spoiled, rotten food that could no longer be eaten.
After walking past the food storage drawers—the path length was probably no more than 2 meters—there was a small door on the left. She looked in to see a tiny room no bigger than 1.5 by 2 meters. Inside was a cot or bed made of aluminum the size of an emergency stretcher. Next to it was a small aluminum toilet bowl resembling a child's potty—old, worn, and indescribably filthy. Attached to the toilet was a sink the size of a train or airplane bathroom sink.
Everything in that room was like an old, abandoned, cramped underground cell, completely contrary to any principles of resident hygiene and sanitation.
Marionne walked in hopelessly. By the time she realized that the temporary shelter for people who escaped through the secret VIP passage was a cell that would trap her here for the rest of her life, it was already too late.
When it dawned on her that her parents must be facing the same situation, and that the three of them would never have a chance to see each other again, tears began to flow.
If she'd known that for the rest of her life she'd never have the chance to go for walks or travel anywhere again, she would have traveled everywhere beforehand, walked everywhere, made the most of the two legs she had. Because this cell left space only for standing, sitting, lying down, and staring at narrow metal walls forever.